


Alternate Lifestyle

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-15
Updated: 2004-10-15
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night at the Hyperion.<br/>Alternate Universe (veering off before Sleep Tight, connor is still little)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate Lifestyle

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

ALTERNATE LIFESTYLES

Author: Dawnie   
Email: matto@aolwebs.com   
Summary: Alternate dimension, Angel and company, a night at the Hyperion.  
Spoiler Warning: After S5 concluded  
Rating: R for m/m relations.   
Disclaimer: These extraordinary characters are solely owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and company. I do not profit from them monetarily, just spiritually.  
Notes: Feedback please, virgin to the Angel fan fiction, be gentle.   
Warning: I chose to make these much-loved characters happy, for once. Some people may be unfamiliar with this concept in Angel and feel frightened. Don’t worry. Happy is okay. Gypsy curses be damned!  
P.S. The soundtrack: “The Reason”. It sums up Angel’s feelings for Wesley. This couple actually had true on-screen chemistry. God bless AD and DB for their incredible performances as these fantastic characters. We are diminished without your weekly nocturnal visits. 

 

ANGEL sat at his desk gazing into the depths of the orb. The yellow mist swirled and danced seductively inside, showing pictures, images and moments in time. He felt lightheaded and his chest felt too tight. “What hell dimension is this?!” he wondered. He wanted to throw the orb in the trash, go out to the garden, and smell the night air. Maybe it would clear his head. However, his dark eyes returned to the mist and he continued to sit and watch events unfold inside, unable to look away. 

Sometime later he heard sounds in the front lobby. He looked up and saw Gunn and Anne coming in, eating peppermint ice-cream cones. They were talking excitedly about the new shipment of clothes, blankets and monetary donations they had picked up from Brentwood for the teen center. It was their biggest haul in months and would provide new beds for at least 20 kids. Angel watched as they passed, heading up the stairs to their room. They were so deep in their conversation they didn’t notice him hunched over the desk. His vampire ears heard them enter the room and greet Iggy, the Rottweiler they had found sniffing around the garbage cans at the teen center. Gunn was a softy for big dogs and had brought him home that night. He made some noises about finding him a home and looking for an owner but Iggy was family now and would be napping on Gunn’s bed for years to come. Angel heard the dog snuffle, jump off the bed and race to greet Gunn. He and Anne continued talking, quietly clicking the door shut behind them, muffling their conversation. Angel stretched his broadly muscled back and stood up. He cautiously picked up the orb, glanced warily at it, and headed up the stairs, clicking off the hotel lights as he ascended. 

At the end of the hall he entered the room. Wesley was gently rocking in the wooden rocking chair beside Connor’s bed. Angel loved the toddler’s new bed; shaped like a racecar, it was so cool. Connor was breathing evenly; he must have drifted off while Wesley was reading. Wesley had an exceedingly soothing voice that washed over you like honey. Angel walked over. “Did he enjoy the story?” he whispered. Wesley looked up surprised. He hadn’t heard Angel enter. “Yes, he liked to part about the pirates. He drifted off before the chapter about Tiger Lily. We’ll pick it up again tomorrow night. “

Wesley placed his bookmark in the old copy of Peter Pan, rose, and placed the book on the rocker. Leaning over, he adjusted Connor’s covers and bent to pick up the teddy bear that had fallen from the toddler’s fingers. He tucked it back under Connor’s arm and kissed his forehead. Connor sighed in his sleep, hugged the teddy bear and continued to dream. Wesley turned and finished tidying up the various trucks, crayons and blocks that littered the carpet. Angel crouched by the bed and gently stroked the boy’s soft blond hair. Wesley watched them for a moment, a smile playing on his lips. Father and son. They looked so endearing together. They were his family, his world. He felt blessed. 

***********************************************************

His thoughts drifted back to the series of events that had brought him to this moment. Watcher’s Academy. Sunnydale. Rogue Demon Hunter. Researcher. Friend. Confidant. And Domestic. All things considered, their union had turned on Angel’s characteristic untidiness. It had been five, no, almost six months ago. Angel had returned from another demon skirmish and left his battle-axe in the lobby; dripping entrails on the floor Wesley had just washed. Angrily, he retrieved the polishing mop and scrub brush from the supply closet and knelt to re-clean the floor. He vigorously scrubbed at the stain, muttering to himself, “If I composed a list of the differences between Angel and me, it would almost certainly stretch to the moon. “ Two black shoes stepped in front of him. Wesley looked up into Angel’s upset face. “I’m sorry Wes. I’ll clean it. “ 

Wesley sighed, “No, forget it, I’m already down here. Please just be more considerate in the future. “ He slopped water on the floor and forcefully scoured the gore. 

Angel jumped back to avoid getting his Italian leather shoes wet. He turned and walked back to his office, stating quietly, “Our list of samenesses might be short, Wes, but Admiration, Loyalty, and …Love matter more to me. “ Wesley looked up, startled by his pronouncement, but Angel had already reentered his office and shut the door. 

Later that evening, after dinner, Wesley had retreated to his room to translate some Greek and Latin scrolls. A short time later he had heard a soft knock at his door. Wes opened it, curious to see Angel looking so anxious and fidgety. “Yes?” He put down his notebook and silver pen. 

“Wes.” Angel studied the hall carpeting. “Wes.” 

“Yes. Is something wrong?” he asked concernedly. 

“No, not really. I just wanted to ask you if you are, umm, okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was doing a little translating. Did you … did you need something?”

Angel shifted his weight from one leg to the other. His dark brown eyes were wearing a hole in the floor. “About earlier, with the floor, the list, the moon…” he paused pointing his finger up; ostensibly towards the sky above the hotel’s roof.

“Angel forget about the floor”, Wesley said hurriedly, embarrassed about the subject Angel was trying to discuss. He started to close the door so Angel wouldn’t hear his pulse quickening. 

Angel put out a hand to stop him. “Wes, if I’m wrong here, I’ll just go. But I thought, or I hoped, that maybe I was…right. About what I feel. How you feel? “

Wesley stood still, holding the door half shut, unsure what to do or say next. He felt shaky. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears, sounding like the ocean surf. The downstairs grandfather clock chimed 10 p.m. They listened to each bell. Angel cleared his throat. Wesley picked invisible lint off his shirt and said, almost inaudibly, “Angel, I…feel.”

Visible relief flooded the vampire’s features. “I didn’t expect this Wesley. I never… I, I just realized one day, and, and...there it was.” he finished lamely. 

Angel looked up timidly, his loping smile creating small dimples at the corner of his mouth. “I love you, Wes.” Hesitantly, he leaned into the door frame and brushed his cool lips across Wesley’s mouth. Wesley swiftly touched his hand to his lips as if they had been bruised or burned. Angel took a step inside the room. “Do you …love …me? “he asked hopefully.

“Angel, yes, I… I love you too. I just couldn’t admit it… to myself. In love. My beloved Angel.” Wesley felt like he was speaking from outside his body. He felt confused and the room was stifling hot. “I ‘m having trouble breathing. I need some air.” 

He stumbled backwards and rushed over to the small terrace outside his suite. He shoved open the doors and inhaled deeply. Wesley sensed Angel behind him. Whirling, he stumbled on the wicker chaise and slammed into the iron railing, nearly spilling over. Angel seized his arms from behind. He felt Angel’s mouth at his ear, “I can’t kiss you again if you fall off the building.” 

He glided his hands to the front of Wesley’s pale yellow shirt and unknotted Wesley’s cobalt blue silk tie. It fluttered briefly in the breeze and slipped from Angel’s hand. They watched it drift slowly down to the garden below, catching on a branch of Jasmine. “Hey! “ Wesley’s voice cracked, he cleared his throat and lowered his voice an octave, “That was the new tie my Father sent over. “ 

Angel brought his mouth to the part of Wesley’s neck above his collar. “Do you want me to go get it?” He opened the top button of Wesley’s shirt and delicately stroked along his exposed throat. Wesley shivered with longing. Angel undid another button and grazed his lips and sharp teeth along Wesley’s naked skin. “I could go get it right now.” 

Wesley made a noise in his throat that sounded like no. Angel tenderly licked a path from Wesley’s ear down the curve of his bare neck. Wesley trembled and pressed back against Angel to keep his balance. Smoothly, Angel turned Wesley to face him, morphed into vamp face and deftly bit into his throbbing pulse. Wesley gasped and his eyes fluttered wildly behind his glasses. Angel pressed Wesley roughly into the railing, consumed with bloodlust. Wesley moaned, feeling the vampire’s hard body suffuse with heat from the feeding. “Angel, Angel, Angel. “, he gasped, lightheaded from blood loss and desire. 

Angel pulled his fangs out of Wesley’s neck and shook his head rapidly to stay the beast within; transforming to his normal beatific visage. The gash on Wesley’s throat began to close and heal, leaving a purple colored bruise. He gingerly fingered the wound, wondered briefly why he couldn’t feel his legs and slumped down onto the concrete floor, breathing raggedly. 

Angel hunched down, lifted up Wesley’s chiseled chin with one finger so he could look into his fervor- filled eyes, and silkily enticed, “I think we would be more comfortable on your bed.” 

He straightened and held out his hand. Wesley gazed up into Angel’s handsome face and hesitated a brief second; swallowing hard he grasped the outstretched hand.

***********************************************************

Wesley quivered from at the remembrance and heaved a sigh. This was categorically *not* the path he had believed his life would take. When he was a fresh-faced Watcher, had some anagogic prat told him that in a few short years he would be in love with a vampire, a male vampire, and they would be raising a child together; he almost certainly would have cuffed the ponce for his vile speech. But here he was; it was completely true. “The PTBs do relish making sport with the “lower beings”, he thought. Wesley shook his head amusedly and bent to put the last stray toy in the trunk. Angel stood and kissed Connor’s cheek. “Sleep well buddy.”

They stole out of the nursery and slid the wooden doors that separated their bedroom from Connor’s room closed. Wesley went over to the large cherry dresser to get his pajamas for bed. Wesley always wore soft Egyptian cotton pajamas that he bought from his London tailor. Tonight‘s pair were a soft blue color that brought out the gray in his expressive eyes. He took them from the drawer and headed for the master bathroom. Angel heard the sounds of Wesley getting changed and ready for bed. Angel turned to his own dresser and put the orb down on top. The mist inside began to swirl again. He opened the top drawer, took out a monogrammed handkerchief and covered it. 

“Angel, did you get a chance to go to Rick’s Majik Shop for me? That new demonology handbook I asked you to pick up?” Wesley called through the door. 

“Yes, it was lucky that I did.” He called back, trying not to look at the orb. He busied himself removing the many bed pillows Wesley insisted on having. Angel thought is looked like a crazy pillow sale but didn’t say anything. It was just one of Wesley’s “things” that half amused, half annoyed him that he lived with. Complain about pillows with what Wesley puts up with? Angel knew that would be callous. 

“Lucky?” Wesley cracked open the door and stuck his head out. “How so?”

“There were two vamps in the store, trying to make a buffet out of the clerk. I had my new short-sword; they never knew what hit them. “Angel did an impression of dusting the vampires. “Two with one stroke.”

“That was fortunate for the clerk. Were you able to acquire the book?” Wesley popped his head back inside and closed the door.

“Yes I did, Wes. It’s on your night table. The guy was so grateful he gave me a gift. “Angel glanced over at the covered orb. “It’s a weird ball that shows your alternate self, in an alternate dimension.”

Wesley reopened the door and strode out in his pajamas; Angel could smell the cinnamon toothpaste he had used. “Ooh! Can I see it?” he asked excitedly.

Angel collapsed onto the bed. “Please don‘t. I saw some disturbing images. I thought it was images of Hell, but a lot of things looked the same as they do here. It kind of freaked me out. I am going to take it back to the Majik shop tomorrow. I really don’t want it in the hotel. “

Wesley turned to him, concern in his gray-blue eyes. “What did you see?” 

Angel shifted his weight on the bed. “Wes, do we have to get into this now? It has been a long day of helping the helpless and I‘m tired.” He tried to sound casual but Wesley knew by his tone that Angel was distressed.

“No.” Wesley said evenly. “We don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. Connor will be up in a few hours anyway, let’s get some rest.” Wesley stepped over to the light and clicked it off. The room was bathed in quiet darkness. He padded over to the bed and climbed inside. 

He felt Angel’s weight shift off the bed and the sound of him shedding his clothes. Wesley smiled to himself. *He* always hung up his tie, put his clothes in the laundry basket for morning washing, polished his shoes, and changed into pressed pajamas. Angel perpetually discarded his clothes in a silken puddle on the floor beside their bed and tripped over his pants in the morning. 

Angel slid into bed as Wesley turned on the small nightstand lamp. “Would you mind terribly if I read a little bit of my new book? Giles and Jenny informed me it was the best data currently available about the migration habits of the Eros Demon. “ 

Angel pulled the covers up. “Of course not, read as long as you like. “ He turned over on his side. Wes snuggled behind him and quipped, “Your feet are cold. “ Angel gave him a half-smile. It was one of Wesley’s favorite jests. “But my soul is warm. “ Angel closed his eyes. Wesley seemed satisfied that Angel was reasonably alright and kissed the tattoo on Angel’s right shoulder. “I love you, Angel.” 

“I love you too, Wesley. Good night.”

Wesley sat up, adjusted his pillows behind his back, took a sip of water, and opened the book.

*********************************************************** 

“NO! WES WATCH OUT FOR THE KNIFE!” Angel sat up, brain racing, fear in his veins, scream in his throat. There was no dark magician with a large knife. Just the dark bedroom and Wes’s even breathing beside him. Angel sat for a moment and tried to calm down. It was only the visions the orb had shown him, not real, not his Wes. The fear continued to drip through him. He rose from the bed and pulled on his pants. He went over to the window and looked out at the full moon. Angel could still see flashes of cruel images. Wes dead. Connor stolen. Cordy and Doyle dead. Lorne gone. Fred lost to a Goddess. Gunn bleeding. Dragons. 

He shook his head to clear it and walked unsteadily back over to Wesley, gently removing the book from his hands and taking off the glasses that had slipped halfway down his nose. He placed them both on the nightstand, clicked off the lamp, and bent to brush his cool lips over Wesley’s cheek. He walked over to the partition doors. Quietly he slid them open, stepped into Connor’s nursery, and eased the doors closed. Wes mumbled and rolled over. Angel stopped. Wes quieted; he clicked the doors shut and walked over to check on Connor. The toddler’s mouth was agape and he was softly breathing. Angel watched his chest rise and fall. Connor was safe and happy. Pictures flashed in Angel’s mind - stolen baby, murderous teenager, Power that Was’s father, erased memories, Connor being another man’s son. It was crazy. Connor was here, where he belonged, with his dads and extended family in the Hyperion. Angel covered up a tiny escaping foot with the soft blankets and silently slipped into the hall. 

He walked down the corridor, listening to the sounds of the occupants within. He passed Gunn and Anne’s room. He heard Gunn and Iggy trying to out snore each other. Gunn was fine. He was probably dreaming of kicking some demon butt. He wasn’t lying in an alley bleeding to death. Iggy woke up, jumped off the bed and whined at the door. “Dogs always hear me.”, Angel thought and shushed him. Iggy sniffed a few more times under the door then turned and jumped back on the bed between Gunn and Anne. They didn’t wake up. 

He walked further down the hall. He heard voices in the next room. Cordy and Doyle were still up. He knocked quietly. “Come in.” Cordy called. He opened the door. She shifted heavily on the bed. It was getting harder for her to move. The twin girls would be coming in about a week and she was having trouble getting around comfortably. “Hi Angel. I’m glad you’re here.” she said. 

“You are?” He queried.

“Yes. Can you go down to the kitchen and get me the gherkins. I have such a craving!” Cordy grinned at him sheepishly, but she knew that he would do anything for her. They were as close as brother and sister and loved each other deeply. 

“If you are going down, get me a Guinness boy-o. This is thirsty work.” Doyle didn’t look up from his labor. 

Angel glanced over at him. “Doyle, those cradles look great. They remind me of the one my baby sister had in Ire-.” He stopped, remembering what had become of his sweet sister.

Doyle looked up, covered in sawdust. He pretended he hadn’t heard what Angel said and waved the sandpaper in his hand in Angel’s direction. “Nothing but the best for my two wee ones, Colleen and Fiona.” 

 

Cordy spoke up from the bed. “Don’t you mean Marie and Claire?”

“Darling, we are not naming our precious daughters after a fashion magazine. These girls have a rich Celtic heritage and need proper Irish names. “He returned to sandpapering the bottom of the cradles to a smooth, satiny finish. 

Cordy rolled her eyes and said “Yes dear” in a tone that meant “I know how to get my way”. She turned her head back to Angel. “Be a sweetie, I have such a yen.” 

Angel smiled at her. “I’ll be back with pickles and beer in a little while, I just wanted to check on Fred and Lorne first. “

“Lorne isn’t home from Caritas. I haven’t heard him in the garden yet. He always sings to Fred when he comes home. Thank God he has such a good voice or it would be sickening. New couples are so annoying! Everything is roses and champagne for them. Wait till she has stretch marks and washes Lorne’s dirty socks every day! “Cordy exclaimed. 

Doyle looked up, a wounded look on his kind face. “Oh honey, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just tired. The girls are taking a lot out of me. You know I wouldn’t trade one sock for all the red roses in LA.” said Cordelia.

Doyle beamed. “You may be an old married gal of 23, and tired, and pregnant with my spawn, but you will always be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on and you make me the happiest half-demon in the world. “ 

He came over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you want me to rub your ankles Cor, it will help you relax.”

She laid back, yawned, and closed her eyes. “Okay. Angel don’t be long with the pickles.”

Angel stepped out of the room and clicked the door closed. Doyle began singing an old Irish lullaby to his girls in an off-key but earnest tone. Cordy gently laughed and joined in. Angel closed his eyes, willing the images in his head to disappear. Cordy was not dead. Doyle was not dead. They were happily married, expecting babies, building cradles. No destruction or grief or passed visions. “They are fine. They are fine.” Angel repeated this mantra a few times and continued down the hall towards the kitchen. 

In the lobby he heard voices. He went through to the office. Fred was curled up in a chair watching the Discovery Channel. She looked up when Angel entered the room and muted the television. “Angel, you are up late. Is something wrong?” 

“No Fred. No troubles. Besides, it isn’t late. “He glanced over at the clock. “It is only 3 a.m.” 

“Maybe not for Broody-Pants Angel but Family-Man Angel is usually asleep in bed with Wes by now, right?” she drawled, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

“Well in bed with Wes, not always asleep.” he teased, with a dimpled smirk.

She blushed. “Well I mean you usually aren’t wandering around the hotel. Oh no! Are you evil again!? Did Wes make you too happy?! I’ve got a stake!” She flourished it in his direction.

“What? No! I’m not evil! Don’t worry about the gypsy’s curse. The overwhelming fear that I could turn into Angelus and slaughter all of you keeps my ‘perfect happiness’ at bay. But I am the most happy I’ve been since Willow re-ensouled me. Again.”

Fred slid the stake back under the chair cushion. “Okay.” She glanced back at the television. “Did ya want to watch this special with me about Quarks on Discovery? It has a new MIT study that blows the 2001 theory of their stability, or lack thereof, right out of the water. “

“Well quacks aren’t really my specialty. Besides, I am on a mission to retrieve gherkins for one cranky mom.” Angel said.

“*Quarks*, not quacks. This is physics, not ducks!” Fred tittered. Angel was a great Champion, but not at all scientific. “Is Cordy okay? Are the babies?” 

“Yeah, she is just having trouble sleeping too.” He said in a dark voice.

“Do ya want to talk Angel? You seem… funny. Funny odd, not funny ha-ha.” She looked at him intently.

“No, no, I’m fine, just a bad dream. There is this orb thingy, and, I don’t know, it had disturbing images in it. Bad stuff. About you guys. Me. Just really bad. Freaked me out. I’ll be fine. Enjoy your show. I better get the pickles before Cordy pops.” He turned to leave.

“If you‘re sure Angel. I’m always here for y’all.” She turned back to her show and made scoffing noises at the scientist speaking on the television. “As if! You wouldn’t know a black hole from a knot hole!” 

Angel headed down another flight of stairs to the kitchen. ” Fred is fine.” he thought. “She hasn’t turned into a scary smurf-goddess. Fred is being Fred. She and Lorne are happy.” He remembered yesterday over breakfast, Lorne had made a joke in Pylean and the two of them had laughed until they could barely breathe. 

He entered the hotel’s kitchen and wrenched open the refrigerator door, trying to expel the bad thoughts from his mind. He stood bathed in the small light, allowing the cold air to brush over his skin. “That orb is definitely going back tomorrow. Alternate dimensions my ass, magic fear demon crap more like it.” He grabbed the pickles and beer, downed an O+, and slammed the door. The refrigerator rocked back and forth before settling back to a monotonous hum. 

Angel headed back up the stairs. He reached the landing to the second floor and heard the iron garden gate screech open. Lorne sauntered up the walk humming “Lady Marmalade” under his breath. He saw Lorne come in the back door, close it and head towards the offices. 

“Where’s my puff pastry?” He called melodically. Fred came rushing over hugging and kissing him. “Lorne, come watch this show with me. You won’t believe what Dr. Wheldon is saying about quarks!”

Lorne smiled indulgently at her. “I bet I won’t. “ He scooped her up and carried her into the office. Angel heard him singing “My Heart Will Go On.”. Fred giggled. The television clicked off and he heard more giggling. 

“Lorne isn’t gone. He hasn’t killed anybody. He is here with Fred, where he belongs. “He continued towards Cordy and Doyle’s room. Angel knocked on the door. There was no sound inside. He cracked open the door softly. Cordy was asleep. Doyle lay on her large belly, also sleeping. Angel placed the pickle jar and beer down on the dresser and slipped out. “Good Night.” he whispered.

He continued toward the room he shared with Wes and Connor. Connor was still dreaming, looking every bit the proverbial cherub, his teddy bear once again fallen onto the rug below the bed. Angel slipped past and eased into the next room. He stood for a minute, listening to Wesley breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out. The steady sound calmed his jangled nerves. The orb glowed dully under the handkerchief. Angel went over and picked it up. Viciously he whispered, “I don’t know where you get these images from, but it is not real. If it is another dimension, God have mercy on those poor bastards. They are not us. They are not us. You go back to the bookstore in the morning, no evil enchantments in my hotel. “

Angel put down the orb, recovered it with the handkerchief, paused a moment, and then placed it in the top drawer. With its glow gone and the room returned to darkness, Angel felt better. 

He slipped back into bed beside Wesley and nuzzled up tight against his back. He gently grazed the side of Wesley’s neck with his cool lips, sharp teeth hard beneath them. Wesley moaned faintly but did not wake. Angel held him, finding comfort and salvation in Wesley’s warm skin. “God have mercy on those poor bastards.” he whispered against Wesley’s dark hair and closed his eyes. Holding Wesley soothed him and he began to relax. Sleep claimed him. His dreams were undisturbed. 

Inside the drawer the orb swirled. It did not take offense at Angel’s words. It did not feel anything. It merely showed images of truth. In another place, another dimension, another Angel and his companions suffered and died and stumbled in a hell- like existence of loss and pain and betrayal. 

But here it was quiet. Here there was redemption.


End file.
